I want these words to make things right
by sophiesaurus1
Summary: Au Bechloe oneshot; Chloe finishes her work for the day, an unexpected visitor drops by


Chloe's sat at her desk. She's typing, face straight, actions almost automatic as the words effortlessly appear on the word document in front of her. Her fingers lightly tap at the keys, almost in time with the endless downpour of rain that's pounding outside, against the large windows of her office. She leans back; the redhead sighs and scans her most recent attempt of the article meant to be heading to print within the next half an hour. It's unsatisfactory; the knowledge false and the tales tall but it's her job, whether she wants it or not. She presses a few keys impatiently then hovers her fingers over the track pad. A hesitant index finger taps once then stops. Chloe looks over the lid of her laptop, towards the smaller, streamlined office cubicles that lay outside hers. No one, apart from Stacie (who somehow ended up being a receptionist, despite her talent in alternative areas) remains. The brunette, of who is facing back towards Chloe, seems to be on a chat room of some sort, though the text and screen are too far away to read.

Chloe relaxes into her chair, scowl embedding her features, accentuating the stress crease that lay in her brow line and with it the small scar that too adorns the area. She scratches her forehead thoughtfully, and glances back to the screen. 'Love and how to find it' reads the headline, in a bold and tauntingly cocky font. She reads no further, and with a face of pure loathing for herself, reluctantly sends the file to head editor. "Good articles, good money." She mumbles to herself mockingly, reminiscent of the editor's attitude towards selling their 'product'.

Then, Chloe sits and stares blankly at the bland desktop background of her company supplied laptop. The job is done, her pay is ensured but she feels somewhat empty about it. Her job doesn't help anyone. Heck, she couldn't even take her own advice. The last relationship she had ended with said partner running away when things got too tough, leaving her in a big city by herself and getting almost dragged under by its fast moving lifestyle.

The redhead hears a familiar vibration from her purse that accompanies a light 'plink' noise. She rolls her eyes, and grabs her purse from under the desk, rifling through it carelessly. The largely tasteless iPhone (she had no care for all these Apple products but everyone in this god forsaken company had one) she grabs from its clutches has its screen bright, indicating a new message. She swipes the screen, reading it carefully. "_Sorry, have 2 work l8. Can't make pizza and wine night x_" The text says, in surprisingly sloppy grammar considering the sender to be none other than Aubrey, the mayor of perfection-ville (this is in fact false, Aubrey is actually a highly successful lawyer though still a perfectionist nonetheless, which might just be a god send considering her career).

Chloe groans, eyes flickering over the text once more. She loves her best friend, truly she does. But sometimes, her work is just a little too influencing for Chloe's liking.

However, being the good friend she hopes she is the redhead passively replies with _"No worries Bree! Reschedule later? Xx"_ and a lightening quick response of "_Yes x_" is returned within a matter of second. It's uplifting to know Aubrey's thinking but Chloe still has that niggling disappointment left, the feeling that she wants something exciting to happen and yet it just won't.

She's still staring at her phone dumbly when a muffled ruckus breaks into her field of hearing. "Hey, you can't come in here!" Stacie's voice growls defensively. "Just try and stop me." An oddly gruff voice barks back at the receptionist. It's recognisable and so familiar, the owner of it on the tip of Chloe's tongue. The door to the office opens with an unmistakeable huff from Stacie before it closes again, the air making a low 'whoosh' noise at it does.

Slowly, Chloe sits up, lowering the lid of her laptop. She's eager to see this unannounced visitor, hoping for a bit of a change from this monotonous grave shift. Her eyes travel towards their head. She catches a glint of brown hair, almost black from its retention of rain water and then a glint of silver that's slightly shrouded by a stray lock.

Chloe's eyes shut at the sight and she refuses herself the neither pleasure nor pain of continuing to look. The ear piercing she saw was too good a giveaway and the voice, oh the voice she hadn't heard in 7 months finally fits back to a face and identity. Someone she missed the sight of yet could never seem to find, despite looking around every street corner and down every alley to find them. This person was a riddle. An Enigma. A mystery that many failed to unravel. She was-

"Beca." Chloe acknowledges, her eyes jolting open, narrowing to a glare. And there she was, dripping with rain, shivering with makeup lightly smearing down her cheeks in rain drop trails. The younger woman's appearance was frail; her eyes dark circles and cheek bones slightly more prominent that Chloe would like to think was healthy. But it was definitely Beca, unmistakably so.

"Chloe…" The Dj whispers back, as if in shock. Her brow raises, lips curling into a hopeful smile that so uncharacteristically adorns her face. "I'm so glad I found you," She adds, looking to the floor before she takes a hesitant step inside. Chloe simply stares. Her mouth falls agape at the sight of Beca. Off the radar for nearly a year and now she's standing in her office, like she never even left.

"I…you…How did you find me?" Chloe blurts. Her hands slam to the desk and she stands accusingly, staring down the brunette for all she can. She's not escaping this time, no chance. Chloe's not angry (…well, maybe.) but she needs answers, more than she'd like to admit.

Beca redirects her gaze to the floor again sheepishly. The Dj scratches the back of her neck with thought and habit, giving herself a moment to find her phrasing. Words were never a strong point and she finds herself a loss of them quite recently, usually at inappropriate times; such as now. Though, with those crystal iris' boring into her very soul (_God, Chloe's sexy even when she's angry_), she finds inspiration. "I just…I remembered that this is where you wanted to work. You told me; this was your big dream, right? To work at this magazine company and write big name articles and interview celebrities...You were such a good writer, I figured you'd be here by now." Beca hears the words flow easily for once, the sincerity lacing seamlessly with her brutal honesty. It's shocking how effortlessly they roll of the tongue _(No, don't think about tongues now Mitchell...oh God)_ and she finds herself grinning soppily at Chloe, who looks upon the scruffy looking woman with a softening glare.

(No). Chloe's logic takes control. (_This woman broke your heart. Stop it. Now_.) The redhead's scowl returns, watching intently at how Beca shuffles uncomfortably under scrutiny; bites her lips with anticipation, even the miniscule eye flutters that follow a train of thought as she waits for something, anything. "Well, I am here. Thanks for stopping by." Chloe muses, slapping a sickly grin on her face before grimacing as she re-opens her fortunately placed laptop. She then continues to act as if she's working and dismisses Beca with a single flick of her wrist.

"But...I came back," The Dj whimpers desperately, "I was scared and I still am, Chloe. But I came back, because I need you." She stands her ground, even as Chloe pays her no attention.' C'mon Mitchell, step it up' she tells herself. Beca braces her trembling body. Lungs draw in breath that's thick with the air-conditioning chill and she coughs. Well, she does more than that. She splutters, almost theatrically (which is ironic, considering Beca is a _terrible_ actress).

But Chloe's concern is caught. Beca actually sees it for a moment; a minor distress flickering in her eyes before the embers turn to ash and is left with dullness. Or, to put it simply, an un-impressed glare and an eyebrow that cocks at such an angle it could be considered a statement in itself. The redhead's lips purse. "Are you quite finished?" She asks sourly.

Beca gawps disbelievingly and shakes her head, "No." she bites back, "I've barely even started. So if you wouldn't mind-" The brunette pauses, cut off by Chloe's blunt reversion of her gaze back to her screen and the pitying sigh that follows. Beca marches up to the desk _(of course it's a good idea to show assertiveness, right_?) and slams heavy hands on the laptop; the lip snapping shut with a bang. Chloe jumps and the Dj catches the un-expecting gaze she elicits against her and now Chloe's stuck staring, looking a little helpless. Still pissed off and most definitely wary, but a little fearful at this new Beca Mitchell that was being put to the table (literally). "- Listening to me." Beca finishes with a gritted smile.

It does the trick. Chloe's gawping. She's more than gawping, she is enthralled.

"Okay..." Chloe squeaks as she presses back into her chair as Beca nears her. The brunette is leering, leaning closer over the desk as much as her stature will allow her (which isn't much, truthfully.). "Great." Beca replies shortly with a sudden smile flashing her features. She does not move but instead stays leant over the desk, expression inscrutable.

There's a silence that settles whilst they stare at each other, stuck at what to say or more over, how to say it and during this, Chloe allows her eyes to wander. Beca's wet shirt now hangs heavily from where it once clung to skin. It now reveals skin more than it covers and the redhead can see the younger woman's clad cleavage. She regrettably cannot tear her eyes away. She tries, oh how she does, though every time her eyes flicker back up, they find another reason to move back down again. _(Jeez. As much as I hate her, I cannot deny my love for her boobs...that's kinda shallow, Beale...dammit_.)

Beca seems to have caught on. "Eyes are up here." She grunts. Chloe flushes bright red and has to swallow the lump in her throat and cross her legs simultaneously to stop the minor pulsating coming from there in order to reply. "What? Shut up Beca." The redhead scoffs, crossing her arms as a further barrier from the brunette. After all, Beca can't get past her own walls, so how could she get past Chloe's (imaginary) ones?

Stormy blue eyes scowl challengingly at the sky blue ones they cross. Beca inches just a little closer, lustful smile suddenly appearing from underneath the habitual smirk she usually adorns. "You know, I had planned an entire apology. About how sorry I am for leaving you and how much of dick I was. I realise what I did, and how much it must've hurt you but I think, and tell me if I'm wrong, there's something else on your mind..."

Chloe frowns. This isn't heading where she was expecting. Truthfully? It offends her. It downright makes her stomach churn that Beca shows up and all she wants right now is to fuck (Well, apologise supposedly, but now she wants to fuck. This is_ totally_ great.) "Jesus fucking Christ Beca! You've been gone .months. Don't even think I'll come crawling back to you because I'm sad, because guess what? I'm not. You broke me down but I got back up."

Beca's doesn't even hesitate after Chloe's outburst. Her response is taut but calm, somehow sincere in its approach, "I don't expect you to come crawling back..." is the mumbled reply. The older woman slumps in her chair defeatedly, her head resting against the palm of her hand. "Why are you here, then?" She finally inquires. It's not anger that presses on anymore but a simple exasperation.

Beca has the nerve to shrug. The Dj finally leans away, off the desk, realizing the proximity is unwelcome, "because I..." the sentence trails off before it even begins and Beca stares dumbly. Words have failed her. Brilliant.

Chloe raises her eyebrows questioningly but doesn't speak. She knows otherwise she'll just offer consolation to a woman who doesn't deserve it. So she watches Beca, somewhat amused by how the younger woman is trying too hard to speak when there's really only one thing she needs to say. Chloe won't tell her though and the light smirk the redhead develops (read; plasters across her face) is teasing, even by her own standard.

Beca continues stumbling over her words aimlessly, none of the sentences managing much fabrication apart from syllables that end up trailing into a low, self-hating grumble before there's a silence. During the most recent attempt, the younger woman catches Chloe's light smirk, the precious curve of her lips hitching Beca's breath as her own mouth moves to mirror the action.

"What are you smirking at, Beale?" Beca mutters, trying to hide the fact she's almost happy seeing Chloe with her eyes bright, scowl no longer eroding her beauty (though, it hardly did truthfully, Chloe Beale was always beautiful ).

Chloe's retort is quick, "The fact that you had 7 months to learn how to do something and yet you still can't do it."

(_Ouch_) Beca winces at the comment, knowing it's painfully true, unfortunately. Her arms cross. "Do what?" honestly; she's not aware of what she's not to do... or is meant to do... Or whatever Chloe is talking about.

"Aca-seriously?  
" "You still say that?!" Beca asks incredulously, though Chloe's glare makes her rethink her wording.  
"I mean... What?"  
"Have you seriously no idea?"  
"...No."  
"Sorry, Beca."  
"Wait, what are you apologising for?"

Chloe's eyes widen. She blinks a few time, disbelieving stare that screams 'I can't believe I'm dealing with your shit again'.

Beca looks to Chloe, expression blank. She presses down the creases on her shirt and fiddles with its neckline anxiously.

"No." Chloe sighs, "Sorry as in you should be apologising, like sorry I'm an asshole who left you because of a childish whim and I promise to never leave you again." (Well shit, I just told her. Good one)

Beca mouth drops. Cogs turn in her head and eventually the penny drops. "Oh..." she mumbles, "OH" she repeats again, louder. Her eyes flash with regret, then anger then finally sadness. It happens quickly and before the Dj can realise what actions she is taking, she's around the desk. Her hands grip Chloe's forearms and pull her upwards, so they stand face to face.

The words she had not once uttered since arriving sit on her tongue, burning like the sting of alcohol. Beca's intoxicated, not from the form of liquid courage but from Chloe. Their closeness had unfamiliarity to it, their bodies having not neared in nearly a year. Beca feels giddy. She can see the detail of Chloe's face, the light curled lashes and gentle grooves in her lips; not to mention the eyes that burn like fire yet glisten like ice in a whirlwind of hot and cold, simultaneously making Beca feel at home yet so unwelcome to be back here. "I'm sorry" She gasps, tears pricking her eyes. She allows herself the torment and they flow freely from her eyes, gently patting onto her damp shirt. "I fucked up. I left and it was wrong. Please don't send me away; I need you, Chloe Beale."

The older woman's expression softens. How can she deny herself Beca any longer? (Answer: she can't) Of course, she'll always be mad about the disappearing act the Dj perfected so undeniably well. However, at the same time she'll always love Beca. The brunettes brokenness reminds her of this and before she can respond coherently, Chloe pulls Beca into a hug.

It's endearing enough to make them both sob into each other's shoulder, pent up feelings and months of emotional torment coming to resolve in little as an embrace. When they separate , they are met with strange looks from Stacie who has been watching the entire show from outside.

The receptionist promptly throws them thumbs up and claims her purse before leaving them to the empty office. There's a brief silence. Beca smirks through her tears, "she always liked to watch, didn't she?" Chloe chokes on a snort, biting her lip to refrain laughing. "God, I've missed you, short stack." "I missed you too Red. I'm not going anywhere this time, promise."

Chloe smiles sadly, "how can you be so sure?"

Beca grins, "Because" she starts, stealing a kiss from unsuspecting lips, relishing in the taste of coconut lip balm and Chloe gasps (because fuck, that was smooth).

"I only knew I loved you when I let you go and I'm Damn sure not letting you go again".


End file.
